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My seminary boyfriend broke up with me just a few days before I was supposed to go house-hunting. It was my senior year, and I had just accepted an exciting new call as an assistant rector. A girlfriend of mine named Mary peeled me off the floor of my dorm room and insisted on driving me to look for houses in this town in which I had never visited, much less lived. Moving away from all that I knew felt terrifying. Mary metaphorically held my hand while we visited apartment after apartment, until I found “the one.” The townhouse was brand new, painted a cheerful cream, in a somewhat Pleasantville-like neighborhood. Mine was a sweet two-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath, with a rent in the outer limits of what I could afford.
I moved in two months later. By then I felt like myself again, and had even met a man in the new town, but I was still nervous about not having friends in this new community. As I moved in, I noticed several people about my age around the neighborhood. Not knowing what else to do, I threw a “Welcome myself to the neighborhood” dessert party, and invited all my neighbors.
That was one of the best decisions I have ever made. What was scheduled to be a three-hour, mid-afternoon open house, turned into an eight-hour party, replete with food, festive beverages and board games. I came to realize that my neighbors on either side of me were both named Sarah, and we assigned ourselves the titles Sarah1, Sarah2 (that’s me) and Sarah3. While the woman in the fourth house is named Mandy, she too became part of our circle of friends. Read more
At the beginning of the service, each person will receive a stone and be encouraged to use this stone by holding it in their hand, placing their worries on it, feeling its weight. At the end of the service, as the congregation leaves in silence, there will be a small table draped in black at the back of the sanctuary where people may leave their stones: leaving behind their worries; letting go of the weight; marking an encounter with God; and honoring Jesus in his time spent in the grave until Easter morning.
The liturgy is structured around Jesus’ last words, each reading followed by a short prayer, each prayer followed by silence, each silence ended with a song. Our music for the service uses a combination of classic hymns, spirituals, Taizé, and Iona pieces. We plan to make the musical accompaniment increasingly spare as the service progresses and as lights are extinguished. The length of the silences will also increase through the service.
At the end of the service, in near darkness, a solo voice will sing one verse of What Wondrous Love Is This.
An outline of the service, including the text of the prayers, and music suggestions follows: Read more
An Imaginary Dialogue Between a College Student and Her Chaplain
Student: Chaplain Kate, I have to interview someone for my First Year Seminar class. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?
Chaplain: That sounds fine to me. What are you researching?
S: Well, we were supposed to interview a professional woman about her job. I was kinda curious about
why you are a chaplain so I thought I’d ask you, if that’s okay, that is…um, well, and if you have time…
C: That sounds good to me. I’ve got some spare time now. Ask away.
S: So why are you a chaplain?
C: I’ve always understood it to be a call.
S: A call?
C: Something God has asked me to do, not in so many words, but through my life experiences. When I was a sophomore in college, I came to the realization that I had some of the gifts that indicate a call to ministry. It was a scary prospect, but at the same time, the minute I said the words out loud I felt at peace and a little excited. That inner sense of peace and excitement all at once has always been an indicator to me that the Holy Spirit is involved in whatever decision I’m about to make. I had the same feeling about volunteering in Northern Ireland for a year and about coming to Wilson.
But back to your question, at that point I really loved my college chaplain. She was a fantastic role model, and I idolized her a little. Well, maybe more than a little. I guess at the time I thought, “I would hate to work in a church, but I could totally work at a college. That sounds like fun.” Working in a church sounded stifling at the time while working at a college sounded liberating. I spent a lot of time exploring all of the ministry options while I was in graduate school, and after all that searching I came back around to the same place. This is the work I love.
S: What do you love about it? Read more
